Drunk, Dazed and Derailed
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Written for dustytiger's prompts for Challenge #3 on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. In memory of our departed friend, JWynn. After a long night, Prentiss awakens hung over with a devious man in her bed...hilarity ensues. TWOSHOT!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: First of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off.**

**There is still one day remaining if you'd like to sign up for the "PYOP" (Pick Your Own Pairing) challenge at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Please join us in making this our most exciting challenge yet. So far, we have 81 participants and we can't wait to read all of the wonderful stories! Details and sign-ups are waiting for you.**

**Finally, we've added a new discussion thread that will hopefully become a useful resource for everyone at the forum called, "Finding a Beta on Chit Chat on Author's Corner". If you'd like to advertise your beta skills and make yourself available to other authors, please come sign up. We'd love to hear from you!**

* * *

**Drunk, Dazed and Derailed**

**Chapter One**

Emily Prentiss was in hell. She just never realized that the fiery pit would be so dark.

Her arms and legs seemed to be filled with prickly darts as she attempted to stretch, her muscles complaining loudly at the unwanted movements. Wincing as she felt her tendons pull in directions that nature never intended, she groaned, only to immediately slap her hand to her forehead as the reverberations resounded throughout her addled skull.

Something was wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

Her fingers encountered something silky on her face, and she tentatively pulled at the soft mask covering her eyes. But the unveiling only made her squint tightly against the light that seemed to blaring down on her pitiful eyelids.

She amended her earlier assumption. Hell was no longer dark. It was now filled with ferocious white light intent on blinding her for all of eternity. Obviously whoever ran the joint was a sadistic capricious creature capable of inflicting multiple levels of torture.

Well, she thought to herself darkly, if this was indeed the netherworld, she hoped she had truly enjoyed whatever had been the final event that sealed her destiny.

Feeling the surface beneath her dip slightly, Emily turned with a jerk, slowly cracking open one eye warily. The simple motion cost her more energy than she thought fair, even her eyes muscles protesting the movement.

"Well, well, well," she heard an entirely too-chipper deep voice boom around her, "Look who finally decided to wake up. How you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?"

Wait, she thought to herself, her addled mind attempting to process the noise. She knew that bass voice, and that chuckle beneath his words definitely gave him away. Forcing her eyes all the way open, she stared over into a devilish whiskered face. Lyng on the pillow next to her. Grinning like a madman.

Oh, shit, she thought ever so eloquently. If this was hell, then he must be the devil incarnate…and he bore a striking resemblance to David Rossi.

Go figure.

Blinking rapidly as she tried to adjust to the glare in the bedroom, she rasped, "Rossi?" What the hell had happened to her voice? It sounded as if she'd swallowed a frog. Whole. Without bothering to chew.

"Well, hello there," Dave smirked, turning on his side and propping his chin in his hand as he stared down into her genuinely confused and dilated eyes.

Wait. Something was very wrong here, Emily thought, mentally willing her mind to kick into first gear. She was in bed. Dave was in bed beside her. What the hell were they doing in the bed TOGETHER? Eyes widening as dozens of implications flooded her mind, Emily quickly lifted the thin sheet covering her body.

Yep! Naked!

She was naked. In bed. With Rossi. And suddenly her list of implications narrowed to a scant few.

"I'm naked," she moaned, the despicable word drawling off her tongue in slow motion.

"You are," Dave nodded, his eyes dancing with merriment as he watched a crimson flush stain Emily Prentiss' flawless alabaster skin.

Licking her dry lips, Emily swallowed quickly. "Are YOU naked?" she asked weakly, flopping her head back against the pillows and squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe when she opened them again, he'd be gone, she mused hopefully.

A girl could dream, couldn't she?

"You didn't check while you were down there?" Dave asked conversationally, barely choking back a chuckle as he watched her wince in dread.

"No. I sort of got sidetracked by my own lack of clothes," Emily replied without opening her eyes. Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, her muscles protested wildly. God, she was sore. What the hell kind of acrobatics had he coerced her into last night?

Feeling something poke her painfully in the back, Emily slid a hand beneath the covers to find the offensive sharp object. Wrapping her hand around something metal, she pulled it out, cracking one eyelid to view the irritating object.

A toy train car? What the hell kind of sex games had they played last night? And, she wondered as hysteria built in her chest and she stared at the ceiling, was that her THONG hanging haphazardly off the ceiling fan?

"What the hell happened last night, Rossi?" Emily asked, her husky voice cautious as she turned her head toward the man currently happily ensconced in her bed.

"You don't remember?"

"Would I be asking if I remembered?" Emily asked petulantly, her fingers wrapping more tightly around the sheet covering her as she shot a mortified look toward her panties, now slowly circulating around the blade of the ceiling fan.

"Tell me the last thing you remember," Dave invited with a wicked grin, his own memories vividly fresh and ready to share.

"You...me...JJ. We were all sitting in a...a railroad car," she said faintly, squinting as she tried to recall the previous evening, her thoughts scattered. "Wait...that doesn't even sound right," she muttered, glancing at the toy train resting on the bed.

"Actually, it's pretty close," Dave smiled gently. "We all went out to celebrate the end of the case and ended up at a bar. Does "The Littlest Engine" ring any bells?"

Closing her eyes, Emily groaned. "It was in a renovated train car," she nodded, grimacing as the small motion sent shards of white hot pain radiating through her skull.

"Choo choo!" Dave grinned, winking at her as he deliberately bounced against the mattress.

Grabbing her head as his enthusiastic response echoed against the walls of the room, Emily glared blearily at him. "Do that again and I start looking for my gun," she warned, lifting her hand to massage her abused temples.

"Already disarmed you when you decided to use the railroad tracks decorating the bar as a limbo pole," Dave replied easily, his mischievous eyes gleaming.

Limbo? That explained her throbbing back. At least, she hoped it did.

"Honestly, Prentiss, I don't think a human body is supposed to contort into those positions. But I gotta say, it was more than a little exciting to watch," Dave teased. "I'll even foot the bill for the chiropractor," he offered generously.

"How kind of you," Prentiss muttered sarcastically. "God, what did I drink last night? Turpentine? Battery acid?"

"I tried to warn you," Dave drawled, wagging a finger in her direction, "but you wouldn't listen to me. Or anybody else, for that matter."

"Could you please just answer the question without the commentary?" Prentiss hissed under her breath.

"Organic micro-brewed beer," Dave replied evenly. "Otherwise known as the stuff you deemed swill at the top of your formidable lungs to anyone that would listen."

"Rossi," Emily growled dangerously, holding the sheet to her breasts as she attempted to lever herself up the mattress, "Would you please stop talking in riddles?"

"I'm not. Last night you were decidedly dissatisfied that The Littlest Engine had nothing that qualified as "real" beer in your eyes. You claimed that you couldn't even manage a tiny buzz off the stuff. Right before you passed out over the makeshift limbo rod."

Closing her eyes again, Emily willed herself to remain calm as she ever-so-firmly asked, "And how many people witnessed my departure from sanity?"

"Oh," Dave sighed, "the entire team and half the little town of Little Bluff," he grinned. "If it helps, the bartender said he hadn't had a night like that in three years. Evidently, watching you perform made people a hell of a lot freer with their wallets."

"Watching me perform?" Emily queried faintly. So this was how it felt to be humiliated within an inch of her life, huh? An interesting sensation to say the least.

"Sweetheart, you gave a whole new meaning to, "How low can you go?" Dave said theatrically, deepening his voice before finally erupting into laughter.

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_**Author's Note 2 - This fic was written in honor of our dear departed friend, JWynn. Originally assigned to her, it is my eternal hope that if Heaven comes equipped with Wi-Fi that she is laughing her tail off at this. We still miss you, my friend and your absence makes our hearts ache.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: First of all, we have exciting news, my friends! Nominating ballots for "The Profiler's Choice Awards" are ready and waiting for you at the "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. So please, everyone, come on over and name some of your favorite fics and authors. Lets honor our favorite stories and authors on the site! We want to hear from you. Rules and guidelines are also available at the forum and as always, tonnie2001969 and I would be delighted to answer any questions that you may have. **

**For anyone willing to help us advertise the awards, we've created a short author's note template available on both my profile page (ilovetvalot) and my co-author's (tonnie2001969). We'd love to have everybody's help making this venture a huge and fun success. Please feel free to copy and paste it into your own author's notes and/or profiles! With your help, I believe this can become an annual event that we ALL look forward to seeing. I hope that you're all as eager as I am to see this incredible project lift off. And a very BIG thanks to all the authors helping us advertise these awards! We truly appreciate any assistance you can provide.**

**And everyone, you still have until midnight tonight to if you'd like to sign up for the "PYOP" (Pick Your Own Pairing) challenge at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Please join us in making this our most exciting challenge yet. So far, we have 81 participants and we can't wait to read all of the wonderful stories! Details and sign-ups are waiting for you.**

**We also have a new interview for you at the forum with the incredibly talented kdzl. Please join us as we get to know her.**

**Finally, we've added a new discussion thread that will hopefully become a useful resource for everyone at the forum called, "Finding a Beta on Chit Chat on Author's Corner". If you'd like to advertise your beta skills and make yourself available to other authors, please come sign up. We'd love to hear from you!**

* * *

**Drunk, Dazed and Derailed**

**Chapter Two**

Lifting her chin defiantly even as her cheeks burned with shame, Emily said precisely, "Wonderful. I'm glad I could provide you with such a solid performance. But, where exactly are my clothes and how exactly did I come to be naked in my bed?" Pausing, she looked around the room self-consciously. Why the hell did all hotel rooms have to look so generically alike? "Tell me that this IS my bed, right?"

"Whose bed do you want it to be?" Dave asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I will kill you with only this facemask and toy train as a weapon, Rossi. I swear to God that I'll find a way!" Emily threatened through barely moving lips as she waved the objects in his face.

"Easy, killer," Dave soothed, gently robbing her of her potential weapons for the second time in twenty-four hours. The first had been the night before when she had volunteered to use her eye mask for more…erotic….applications than simple sleep. "I'm innocent." Well, mostly, he silently amended. He had taken more than one peak at her mouthwateringly unconscious body, but he hadn't laid a finger on her. Seriously, he should nominate himself for sainthood after resisting that temptation!

"You're innocent?" Emily snorted in disbelief. "Hello, Innocent," she said holding out her hand, "I'm Mother Teresa," she mocked.

"Are you done with your little comedy routine?" Dave asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow at her as he dared her to continue.

"I guess so," Emily grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced him.

"Good. As I was saying, I was a perfect gentleman. JJ helped you disrobe. I merely stayed to assure everyone that you didn't fall out of bed and land on your head. Evidently, you got a little enthusiastic in your inebriated state," he remarked with a pointed look at her dangling thong. "Nice color," he commented blandly, eyeing the neon pink scrap of material.

"Shut up," she muttered.

"It was a compliment," Dave retorted defensively. Jeez, if she was this testy over the dangling panties, wait until she found out the matching bra was still gracing the mirror above the bar. Perhaps, he'd let Morgan share that lush tidbit with the feisty woman glaring at him.

"Jerk," she huffed, growing more mortified with every passing moment.

"Eloquent," smirked Dave as he crossed his arms behind his head. "I'm crushed. I expected much better comebacks after last night's discussion, you know. "

"What discussion?" Emily asked, knowing immediately that she was going to regret asking the question when she saw the grin start to spread across Rossi's face again.

Shrugging his shoulders as he settled more comfortably against the pillows, Rossi replied cheerfully, "You really don't remember? Honey, from the moment you got settled in the room, you were a regular Chatty Cathy. Although I must admit, I blushed a tad when you went on and on about my well-endowed …."

Groaning loudly, Emily cut him off midsentence as she hissed, "Please, God, tell me I didn't say anything I'm going to live to regret." Pressing her hand to her flaming cheek, she muttered, half to herself, "Maybe this is all a dream. If I close my eyes, it will all go away and then I can start the day fresh and bright."

"You're welcome to try," Dave replied magnanimously, shaking his head as he grinned widely, "But I can assure you that this is very real. You want me to relay your conversation word for word or do you think you can make do with the highlights?"

"Quit enjoying this, Rossi," Emily snapped, shaking her head and immediately regretting the motion. "Just tell me how I ended up naked if JJ was supposed to help me change clothes!"

Wriggling his eyebrows, Rossi leaned forward as he whispered, conspiratorially, "Apparently you informed JJ that you just loooove to sleep in the buff. Something about how clothes are so confining." Letting his eyes drop for a moment to where her hands held the sheet tightly around her, he said in a mock-shocked voice, "The prim and proper Emily Prentiss is a closet nudist? Who'd a-thunk it?"

"I was raised in Europe. Things are different there," she groaned balefully, her breaths starting to come in shallow bursts as she attempted to overcome the sheer humiliation of the entire event.

"So you informed us both last night," Dave commented, struggling to keep a straight face. "And half the bar," he added gleefully. Screw Morgan. This was his fun.

Pupils dilating, Emily gasped, "What? What did I inform the bar of, Rossi?"

Leaning forward, Dave said conspiratorially, "Evidently, bras are confining instruments of torture created by men to suppress women. And in Europe, considered totally and completely unnecessary."

"No," Emily whimpered, covering her face with both hands, the sheet around her chest slipping ever so slightly. "Tell me I didn't..."

"Use your brassiere as a slingshot and decorate the bar's Budweiser mirror in intimate apparel the same lovely shade as those?" Dave asked happily, pointing toward the ceiling fan's new decoration. "Sorry, cara, can't do that." he declared sorrowfully.

"Why the hell didn't one of you stop me?" Emily yelped, blindly slapping his chest with a flustered hand.

"Trust me, honey, we tried. But if you weren't the little engine that could last night, you were definitely the little engine that was gonna damn sure she gave it her best shot," Dave relayed, choking on his laughter.

She'd been correct in her initial assumption upon waking earlier. She WAS very definitively in hell. And David Rossi had assumed the role of her own personal Beelzebub. And as if she needed further convincing of his new role in her life, Emily groaned in pain as she heard, "I feel like scrambled eggs this morning. Playing babysitter to you worked up my appetite."

Swallowing quickly as bile rose in her throat, Emily pressed one hand to her queasy stomach and the other to her lips. "Dave..."

"Ohhhh...and biscuits and gravy with those big chunks of country sausage," Dave said, obviously delighting in the olive green color overtaking her complexion.

"And maybe some tomato juice," he said, eyes narrowing as she lurched from the bed.

"I'm going to kill you," she moaned, jerking the sheet with her as she floundered toward the bathroom.

"Was it something I said?" he called after her as the bathroom door slammed.

Emily reemerged several minutes later clad in the white terrycloth robe, compliments of their hotel. Glaring at him as she slowly walked back toward the bed, she hissed, "One word about food and you'll need to take all your meals through a feeding tube, Rossi."

"Is that anyway to talk to your friends?" Dave asked genially from his position on the bed, hands propped lazily behind his head, his body well-covered by the appropriate clothing.

"With a friend like you, an enemy might not be such a bad thing," she muttered, easing carefully back on the bed, grateful to lean her aching head back once again.

"Just for that, you can figure out how to retrieve your panties on your own. I'm going in search of food," he informed her archly, his half-grin belying his tone.

And as the door closed quietly behind him, Emily glanced up toward the ceiling fan. Thanks to Dave and the rest of their team, at least she knew the location of her panties. Left to her own devices, who knew what could have happened?

Perhaps those people that made up her team really could be considered her friends after all.

And for the first time ever, she could admit to herself that she sort of liked Rossi's eyes glued to her little red caboose. Who knew what station her train would have arrived in without him conducting the journey?

**FINIS**


End file.
